


Those little notes.

by CaptainJawn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Angst, Big Brother Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6372544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJawn/pseuds/CaptainJawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock had another near-death experience caused by drug abuse, John's getting quite angry. Angry enough to break into Diogenes Club and shout at Mycroft for about half an hour. Then he leaves, and refuses to answer any message sent by the elder Holmes. So finally Mycroft decided to start a final attempt and sent a letter to the good Doctor. Trying to explain what went wrong.</p>
<p>Correspondence between John Watson and Mycroft Holmes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those little notes.

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel is in the works.

Dear Dr. Watson,

I know there are a lot of things you expect me to be or not to be, but that's not the question. The question is: do you understand?

You don't understand it, do you? Loving someone so much that you can't even tell them. I wish I could. I wish I did tell him long ago. There is a reason why he's so mad with me. It's because I left him, because I never told him, because I wasn't there when he needed me most. I was so busy with myself, my feelings, that I ignored the obvious. Ignored the fact, that he was broken as well, that he needed me. But I just left, left him behind. Alone, and lonely. When I finally realized my mistake, it was almost too late. I found him in his room, doors locked, the smell of something incredibly dangerous in the air. He was lying on the ground, covered with one of the sweaters I left behind. Pupils dilated, hands shaking, sweat all over his half-naked body. His face pale, deep dark eye bags, blood all over his lips and arms from where he started biting and scratching himself. I wanted to lie down next to him, to burst into tears over this, but I knew better. I had to take care of him from now on, watching out whenever there would be a sign of a new attack. But I wasn't able to do this "officially", so I decided, that whenever he had taken anything, he had to make a list and send it to me immediately. The only compromise he agreed to. As you can imagine I received a lot of those little notes since then, since I promised to look after my dear little brother more than 15 years ago. It might kill me one day, but that's the least i can do for him.

You may see that things are more complicated than you imagined, and that just dealing with it provides no effective solution. But it looks like you're the only one who's actually able to get close enough to talk to him, even close enough to influence him in a way I never considered possible. That's the reason I tried to explain the whole situation, even myself to you. Because I want you to help me.

Look after him. Please.

Yours sincerely,

MH

 

P.S.: Pardon me for quoting Shakespeare. Or better: abusing him.


End file.
